Pauls Pants

This is the first part of a new series, reference to the Paul's Pants series will give any new readers the back story. As ever, all rights revert to me, otherwise, feel free to copy and share, although not for profit. Always happy to receive comments/brickbats/requests. spasm2(at)mailandnews.com

I returned from my Lake District holiday in a state of pleasurable anticipation, not only had Paul and I taken our sexual experimentation to new heights, but during our vacation we had made the acquaintance of a younger boy called Ewan. The series of misadventures that led me to uncover his secret have already been described, suffice it to say he was beginning to explore his sexuality, but had been taken advantage of by a friend of his father in whose care he was supposed to be having special tuition. This all came to light when I developed a film that he had managed to jam in his camera. I was both attracted and repelled by the images I'd seen, and once I'd heard his story, I promised to help him escape from the awkward situation.

When I woke up late on the Sunday morning after the return from the lakes I could hear the phone shrilling downstairs, this was in no way unusual, my sister was constantly in demand, even though a glance at my watch revealed that it was early by her standards. I was still somewhat surprised to hear my mother shouting my name up the stairs; `Who is it?' I yelled, dragging on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt (I sleep in my underwear).

Didn't catch the name,' she called back, just get a move on will you.'

I stumbled down the stairs and picked up the phone; `Hello?'

A small voice answered; `Hi, it's Ewan.'

Wow, talk about an instant reaction, my heart jumped into my throat and for a moment I was unable to speak, eventually I got it together and replied; `Hi Ewan, how are you doing?' Shakespeare it's not, I grant you, but for a conversation between two teenage boys, at least one of whom was having a sudden rush of unfamiliar feelings, this was quality stuff.

`Um, I need to ask you a question,' Ewan continued, evidently not quite as lost for words as I was.

`Go ahead.'

`Um, you remember the problem I have with Mr Symonds?'

Of course,' I said, and I promised to help you to deal with it.'

`Well, I talked to my Dad, and he says it'll be alright for me to miss my tutorial next Wednesday to learn how to print my holiday photos, so is it still ok for me to come with you?'

`Of course, I gave you my word didn't I. We need to sort that bastard out, I'll book the darkroom tomorrow for Wednesday after school, and we can take our time.' I have to confess that the idea of spending a late afternoon with Ewan in the tight confines of the school darkroom was really turning me on, especially as I already knew that the images we were going to be printing were very stimulating to say the least.

That's great,' I could hear the relief in his voice, I don't know what I'd do if I had to go back to another session with him again.'

I think I can promise you that he won't be troubling you any more,' I said firmly, so don't fret about it.'

Thanks,' he said, it's very good of you to care.'

I was lost for words again; the boy had a knack of touching my heart in a way that nobody else had ever done before. `That's ok; nobody should ever be made to do things if they don't want to. I'll see you in school tomorrow, and confirm that I've booked the darkroom.'

`Ok, that'll be fine, I'll see you tomorrow.'

Was it my imagination, or did he seem reluctant to hang up? `Was there something else?' I asked gently.

Um,' for a change he seemed to be lost for words, this will be our secret, won't it?'

`Yup, just you and me, and that bastard who's going to end up crapping himself after Wednesday. I promise you that no-one else will hear about it from me, and you can have back your negs after we've done printing them too.'

Oh, yeah,' he giggled, that might be a good idea. I really do want to see how my pictures turned out though.'

`Judging by the contact sheets, you're hot stuff, don't leave much to the imagination.'

`Well, I've seen everything you've got, both you and Paul, so I guess it's only fair that you should have seen me.'

There is that,' I said, suddenly dry mouthed again, we've not got much left to hide from each other.'

That's good, I think I like it like that,' he said cheerfully, listen, I have to go now, my Dad is calling me, I'll see you tomorrow, and thanks again.'

`Yeah, see you.' With that he hung up, leaving me in a state of emotional confusion. I was experiencing sensations that I hadn't had before, especially as my relationship with Paul had never strayed beyond friendship and mutual sexual gratification. There was no doubt about it, I was beginning to develop an attachment to Ewan, and my feelings seemed to be being reciprocated.

As I was a normal teenage boy, my reaction to this confusion was to lock myself in my room and take out the contact prints from Ewan's photo session. As I looked at the images once more, I was conscious that I was getting stiff and kicked off my jeans before settling down on my bed to examine them more closely. I was looking for clues in the tiny images, clues that we could use to blackmail his abuser to leave him alone. It was clear that Mr Symonds had been quite lucky when he had framed the images, the room, the furnishings; even the clothes he was wearing were quite nondescript. I absently stroked my stiffening prick through my cotton pants as I searched on; the first group of photographs, those that had been created under the control of Ewan, were very appealing to me; the combination of youthful innocence and his evident sexuality were a big turn-on.

The second section, when Mr Symonds had decided to get in on the act, was not so innocent, now that I knew the story behind it, I was still attracted, but I also felt furious on Ewan's behalf. The man was blatantly abusing him, and the images were plenty enough evidence to have him put in jail. The problem was that we couldn't do it without exposing Ewan to public scrutiny, and as the abuser was also an old family friend, it would cause all sorts of problems. The answer had to be in the pictures, but there was nothing to be seen from these tiny images, I would have to put the negs in the enlarger and take a closer look. Ah well, nothing to be done until I had a chance to get in the darkroom, I'd have to see if I could get in there tomorrow, for a preliminary search.

With a slightly troubled conscience, as I was very turned on by now, I pushed the contact sheets into my secret hiding place, and pulled out a set of Paul's pics instead. The familiar images and memories of Paul gradually stripping, and getting off, soothed my disturbed mind, and pulling my pants to one side I took my now fully erect cock in hand and began to masturbate myself to my climax with all the single mindedness of a teenage boy.

My orgasm, when it came, was copious and prolonged, I had long been aware that my sexual instincts, as demonstrated by my cock, didn't have any moral ambiguity, something was either good or bad, and generally if I followed my feelings I was right. At least it had been about Paul, and a couple of subsequent encounters that may yet be recorded. So, as I cleaned myself off with a sodden tissue, I resolved to do nothing, just to take things as they came. Ewan was a precious and damaged boy, whatever else might happen between us, I didn't want to make things any worse for him.

Next morning the return to school was a bit of a shock to the system, like plunging into a cold shower, and by lunchtime the holiday was a distant memory as I plunged back into the hell that was the run up to exams. I saw Paul briefly in the distance, looking worried, as well he might, school work was a bit of a stranger to him. I was lucky though; the darkroom was free for a couple of hours after school that night, and for the whole of the Wednesday evening session, so at least that was sorted. I made my way back from the staff room, having made my booking. I was on my way to find somewhere to have my lunch, and en route I bumped into a small boy, Oh, sorry,' I said, then; Oh, Hi Ewan, didn't recognise you in your school uniform.'

`Yeah, I know, ghastly isn't it, I can't wait to take it off when I get home at night.'

`Oh, I don't know, you look kind of cute in it.'

He gave me a withering look, `Cute! Who wants to be cute?'

`It's not just the wrapper, it's what it's wrapping that makes all the difference, and we both know you've no problem there. Anyway, I've booked the darkroom, we have it until the caretaker decides to kick us out, so you'd better let your dad know you'll be back late.'

That's fantastic, I'll tell him tonight.' He paused, then; Um, there was one other thing.'

`Oh Yes?'

`My Dad doesn't like me coming back late on my own, usually Mr Symonds would drop me back, so I was wondering if you'd mind walking back with me?'

`Of course not, although I don't know where you live,' I added.

`Just the other side of the common, I'm not that bothered really, but I know he worries because there's only me at home now, as my brother's away at Uni.'

`Yeah, of course I'll walk over with you, it's not much out of my way and don't worry about the other thing, we'll sort it on Wednesday.'

He smiled and vanished into the maelstrom of small boys that flowed around the dining hall entrance; I had opted out of school dinners several terms ago, after a peculiarly unpleasant experience with a semolina pudding, and so I brought sandwiches whenever I could be bothered to make them. As it was a pleasant spring day I walked out into Pitt Park, which my school backed onto, and which was out of bounds to first and second years. It was relatively peaceful; inevitably some of the keener boys were having a kick about, which involved a lot of adolescent shrieking, but it was still possible to find a quiet spot in the spring sunshine and enjoy an uninterrupted meal. Truth is, I was itching to get into the darkroom and take a closer look at Ewan's film, not just that but I still had several rolls left to develop from my adventures with Paul, and he would be wondering what was holding me up. I was also full of unexpected feelings and just wanted to stay out of everybody's way while I thought about them, at that age feelings were peculiarly intense, almost painful, and I wasn't sure if I liked it.

Once the afternoon's lessons were over, I made a dash for the claustrophobic security of the darkroom. My first task was to load and develop the last remaining reels of film from Paul and my erotic adventures in the Lake District. Once this was done, and the films were safely rinsed and in the drying cabinet, I was able to give Ewan's film my full attention. The school had been donated a sheet paper developing machine when a local hospital closed, the printing paper was more expensive, but the convenience was enormous, instead of the old fashioned business with trays of chemicals, you simply fed the undeveloped print in one side and a minute later it popped out, developed and ready to go into the water bath. I was the only person who used it, as I had hidden away the vast donation of special paper that came with it. It did mean, however, that I could knock out a set of prints very quickly. Ewan might have had a beat-up old camera, but the lens was good, and his images were pin-sharp. I could feel the familiar stirrings in my crotch as the first couple of prints tumbled out of the developing machine. The background was much better defined than in the contact prints; it was easy to read the titles of the books on the bookshelf for example.

Ewan's subtle striptease took place in front of a large leather armchair, with a low and cluttered coffee table to one side. This chair became more prominent, firstly as he used it to put a foot up on, once he had discarded his jeans, and finally because once Mr Symonds had inserted himself into the pictures he was sat in this very chair, Ewan displayed possessively on his knees. Although I was very turned on, I was on a mission, and quickly printed off a set. I could look at them in more detail at home, but it looked like Ewan and I would have no trouble finding enough evidence to persuade his persecutor to back off. Of course, when I'd promised Ewan that I'd give him back the negs, I'd never mentioned anything about keeping a set of prints for me, if he asked, of course I'd tell him, but these were becoming precious images to me for some reason.

I printed off one of the rolls of film from the Lakes too, it turned out to be our `Lord of The Flies' scenario, and pretty hot it was too. Paul's practised posing and total lack of inhibitions made the images very stimulating. During the session he had snatched a picture of me standing in the swimming hole; the sodden blue nylon slip he had chosen for me clinging to my rampant cock and not really concealing anything. It brought back all sorts of happy memories of the holiday, a trip that had exceeded all my possible expectations. I rubbed at my throbbing erection through my school trousers, my cock was going to need some attention soon, or I'd end up coming in my pants. At that moment, of course, the caretaker banged on the door and told me to start packing up, he'd be back to lock up in fifteen minutes. I just had time to get everything cleaned up and packed away by the time he returned, and stuffing the box of pictures into my schoolbag I made my way home.

Pretty much as soon as I was in the door, I rushed up to my room, stripped off my school clothes and took the pictures out again, my cock was still slippery with pre cum and jerked back into life as I looked through the images. I gave Ewan's pics special attention, no longer feeling quite so guilty about being turned on by them; I searched for evidence that we could use to nail his persecutor. In the very last picture taken before his camera had jammed, the one where Mr Symonds had spread Ewan's legs wide, and slipped a finger into his anus while grasping his erect cock with the other hand, I think I found it. On the table beside the armchair was a telephone, and at some point while the abuser had manipulated Ewan's slender body, it had been knocked round to face the camera, and his telephone number was plainly readable. Not only that, but Ewan was quite unidentifiable, his sweet bottom was free of any blemishes or distinguishing marks and his face was turned away, so, the most violently pornographic image was to be the one. I'd have rung Ewan up to tell him, except that I had forgotten to ask for his telephone number, it would just have to wait `til the morning.

With a sense of immense satisfaction, I was able to return to the matter in hand, and brought myself close to my climax, focussing my attention on one of the earlier pictures, when Ewan had felt he was in control of things, as I finally allowed myself to slip over the edge and come at last.

Next day in school I didn't catch sight of Ewan until the mid-morning break, he looked miserable and worried until he spotted me, then when he did he broke into a welcoming smile. It was like the sun coming out, and I felt amazed that such a simple thing could transform him and gladden my heart at the same time. Hi,' I said, good news.'

I could do with some of that,' he said, Mr Symonds rang my dad last night and said he could fit me in for a special tutorial this Thursday evening, just as a one off.'

One off the wrist, more like,' I snorted, what did your dad say?'

`He said it was very good of him to change the arrangements, and I would have to go, after all he is doing me a favour.'

You poor thing,' I said, that bastard has had to do without you for two weeks, just when he was getting what he wanted, and now he wants some more. Well I think we can put a stop to that tomorrow night. Does he live nearby?'

`About a fifteen minute walk from me, why?'

`I have a special delivery planned for him, that's all. Anyway, the good news is that I've had time to take a closer look at your pictures, and there's one where you can read the number on his telephone, more than enough information for Mr Plod even at his dumbest. Only thing is, you might not like the picture.'

`How do you mean?'

`Well, some might say it shows your best side, others might think it a little bit crude, I guess you'll have to see it.'

When Ewan blushed his pale skin flushed a healthy pink, contrasting with his ruby lips and golden hair; I think I know what you are saying,' he said slowly. If it means he's going to leave me alone from now on, then I guess I can live with it.'

That's the spirit,' I replied, maybe you had a stiff upper lip when the pics were taken, who can tell? But other parts of you certainly were!'

Oh ha, bloody ha,' he said, grinning, I'll get you for that one.'

`Here's hoping,' I said.

I promise,' he answered, suddenly serious, you've gone to a lot of trouble for me, and I want you to know that I'm very grateful.'

Now it was my turn to blush, `I haven't done anything yet.'

You've given me some hope,' he said simply, and you made me spunk all over the walls of a toilet cubicle.'

`Eh?' I grunted, mystified.

`When I nicked your pictures, you donkey!'

`Oh, yeah. Well there's some more good news there too, I printed off a set from an earlier session Paul and I did, and they're pretty good. I'll let you see them if you like?'

`Yes please,' he said.

`While we're on the subject, do you mind if I ask you a question? You don't have to answer it if you don't want to.'

`Go ahead, I'm not hiding anything,' he replied bravely.

`When you were being touched up by Mr Symonds, how did you feel?'

`It was ok at first, I felt protected and needed at the same time, and it was the first time anyone had touched me sexually, and that was very nice.'

Yeah, it's not the same as doing it for yourself,' I agreed, what went wrong?'

`I suppose it was because he was so much stronger than me, if he'd really wanted to hurt me he could have, and there'd have been nothing I could have done about it. That was when I stopped enjoying the feeling, and began to get a bit scared.'

For a moment, I nearly forgot that we were standing in the corner of a crowded playground, and moved as if to hug him. I realised soon enough that this wasn't a good idea; public displays of affection between boys were not considered to be appropriate in an English grammar school. `I have to ask, because it'll drive me mental if I don't; did he make you come?'

`No, after he'd come in my mouth, I think he realised he'd gone a bit further than he meant to, and I ran away as soon as I could after that. Why does it matter?'

`I suppose because I associate coming with the giving and receiving of pleasure, it's like the full stop at the end of a sentence; the build up is the fun part and the spunk is like the icing on the cake.'

Remind me never to eat the cake at your house,' he said grinning, I think I understand you, but then I haven't had as much practise as you have.'

'Maybe not, but you'll get your chance.'

`I intend to, I can see I've got a lot to learn.'

It came as something of a relief when the school bell to signal the end of break rang, right,' I said, I've got double physics now, catch you later.'

`Yeah, later.'

As it happened, I didn't see Ewan again that day, nor did I see Paul, which was less surprising. Paul had a knack of being hard to find, especially when he didn't want to be found, a technique which had enabled him to skive off loads of school. That this might be beginning to rebound on him was a thought that had occurred to me. I decided to leave him be until I'd got more of the pics printed up.

Next day I took my bike into school, something I didn't normally bother with, as I only lived a few minutes walk away, but as I was staying late after school and I had a delivery planned, I thought it would be better to have some wheels.

I'd arranged to meet Ewan in the darkroom, that way I could get stuff set up, and then we shouldn't be interrupted until the end of the night school session. I didn't think we needed that long, after all I had already done the research on the Monday night. I was all set, and had loaded the film I'd shot of Ewan in his kayak into the enlarger (remember, this was our cover story), when I heard a tentative knocking on the darkroom door. `Come in, it's safe,' I shouted, the door was quite thick and close fitting.

The door opened and Ewan came in, his normally glossy hair was all spiky and damp, and his school uniform was in a state of disarray. Sorry I'm a bit late,' he said, we just had double PE and the sod made us run round the park.'

`I thought you looked a little sweaty,' I said.

`Nah, this is from the shower, there was a bit of a mud fight, and he made us all take a cold shower as a punishment.'

Ah well, this little sweat box will soon warm you up,' I said, you'd better hang your blazer up though, or you'll cook.' Ewan had evidently not spent too long drying himself off after his ordeal, as the thin white school shirt was still sticking to his skin in places, the cold and damp had made his nipples very prominent too. Damn it, the boy was starting to turn me on, and I had work to do.

Even though he had never used a darkroom before, he caught on fast, and we printed off a series of pictures of him doing stuff in the kayak, there were a couple of shots where he looked really exhilarated and happy, and I thought maybe one of these would be good to give to his dad. We also printed off a few pictures of mountains and lakes to make our story look good. It was very comfortable to be in such close proximity to Ewan, he might be unselfconscious about his body, but he was scrupulous about personal space. We just seemed to fit together into the tiny little room without any awkwardness, even though we were close enough for me to feel the heat radiating from his body.

Right,' I said, once we'd got the cover story out of the way, time we got on with the main event.'

Yeah,' Ewan said hesitantly, I suppose we should, although I'm a bit nervous about it.'

`Ok, how about we print through in sequence, then if you start to feel uncomfortable, we can stop, and maybe do something else for a bit.'

`That would be good, I'm not sure how I'm going to feel about it, I've never seen any of the pictures Mr Symonds took of me.'

`Relax, you're a natural, the camera loves you,' I said, partly to reassure him, and also because it was true.

We took the first few prints quite slowly, so that he could have a good look at them once they were processed. After the initial embarrassment of seeing himself, he began to get more interested and each new pose began to be greeted with comments about how he felt when he posed. I was getting seriously turned on, and a sidelong glance, while Ewan was bending over to look more closely at a print, revealed that he was in a similarly turgid condition, if the pleasing bulge in the front of his school trousers was anything to go by.

It was only once we had printed all the images where he had been able to control the poses, and got onto the first of the ones where Mr Symonds got in on the act, that he called time out; I think I need a break from this for a bit,' he said, is there anything else we can do?'

We could print up some of the ones that Paul and I took together?' I replied, unless you'd rather do some more mountains and streams.'

Can we,' he gasped, eyes wide, are you sure?'

`Of course, I've already told you that you're welcome to look at the pics any time, and I've got a load to print up, so it would be very helpful to do a few now.'

I only had the negs from the `Lord of the Flies' session with me, so even though I'd already printed a set, another one for Paul wouldn't hurt. The fact that Ewan was detached from the creative process here made him much more relaxed about it, and he was fascinated by the progression of the images as we printed each in turn. Soon I was able to catch glimpses in the dull red glow of the safety light of him surreptitiously rubbing at his erection, I wished that I was able to do the same, but somehow felt that it would be inappropriate.

`There's just one thing,' he said slowly, during a pause to put another strip of negs into the enlarger.

`Yeah, what's that?'

`Well, these pictures are great, but they only have Paul in them, the ones I saw before had both of you in some of them, and just you in others.'

`What are you saying?' I asked.

`I just wish there were some pictures of you as well,' he said, frowning slightly.

I'm sorry,' I replied, someone has to be behind the camera, but you never know, you might get lucky in a minute.' As it happened, the very next neg was the picture Paul had snatched of me standing in the water, my saturated blue nylon pants clinging to what was, even if I say so myself, a pretty substantial erection. For a lucky shot it had come out very well, everything was pin sharp, and with a little cropping it was a classic image.

When Ewan realised it was an image of me, he gasped slightly, and moved closer for a better look, pressing the bulge in his trousers against the rough wood of the workbench, `could you let me have a copy of this?' he begged.

Of course,' I answered, secretly very flattered, just don't flash it about.' Once we'd printed his copy, I looked at my watch and realised that we only had an hour left at best. We'd better get back to business,' I said, anxious to relieve what was to me a considerable erotic tension, you can come and help me print the rest of these another time, I've got about six rolls left to do.'

I'd love to,' he smiled, breaking my heart again, but you're right, we'd better get on with it.'

The thought of the remaining shots was clearly making him uncomfortable, so I thought it might be kinder just to jump to the last, most explicit image. As I loaded the strip of negs into the enlarger, I put this proposition to him; `I've already seen this, so it doesn't mean anything to me, you were there, so you already know what he did. I don't think there are any images on the roll that reveal his nature and his identity as plainly as this one does, whilst at the same time preserving your anonymity. We can just do this one print and then call it a day, if it's too much for you.'

He nodded mutely, and I switched on the enlarger to focus it, I heard him gasp, even at the negative image, and then lost myself in the technical minutiae of producing a print for a moment. It was only when the print had passed safely through the processor, and I switched the lights back on that I realised that he had fallen strangely silent. I looked over, and he was standing there, eyes not focussed on anything, tears pouring down his face and dripping on the floor. For about the fifth time that day, my heart melted and I put my arms round him, he turned and pressed his face into my shoulder, wrapping his arms round me and sobbing silently. We stood like that for an age, and I gently stroked the back of his head until the sobbing subsided. Eventually, he lifted his tearstained face from my now rather sodden shoulder and stammered; `I'm sorry, suddenly it all just got to me.'

`Is that the first time you've cried about it?' I asked, fishing in my pocket for my rather grubby handkerchief and carefully wiping away his tears.

Yes, I've not really had a chance to think about it, til now.'

`How do you feel?'

`Better now, I can see that we have to use this pic, even though I don't think I look my best in it.'

The resilience of the boy startled me, two minutes ago he was bawling his heart out, and now he was making jokes about it. Ok, that'll do it for tonight then,' I said, let's pack up and get out of here.' We were just in time, Ewan had dived across the corridor into the toilets to wash his face, and I was just turning the key in the lock when the caretaker wheezed up and told me to get a move on. I dropped the key through the letterbox on the staffroom door, gathered up my stuff and was heading for the door just as Ewan, freshly scrubbed and gleaming, emerged from the toilet. Let's get you home, and finish this off,' I said, do you have any big envelopes at home? Or shall I risk going back and pinching one from the staffroom?'

`Nah, we've got heaps at home, my dad's a university lecturer, they're forever sending stuff to him, and he keeps the envelopes.'

`I think we need to use a new one, otherwise it all links back to you.'

I think my arse links it back to me pretty well, don't you?' he said, I want him to know that I've done something to stop it.'

Good point,' I said, and if I write the note, then he'll know there's someone else in the know. He won't think it's your dad will he?'

If you'd ever seen my dad's handwriting,' he giggled, it's like a pissed spider, no, I think he'll work it out.'

We loaded our bags onto my bike, and walked the mile or so back to Ewan's house on the other side of the common. Even in the late afternoon, the tree lined road across the centre was quite intimidating, and I was glad that I would be cycling back later. Ewan's house was set back from the road, a tall late-Victorian brick building typical of the area; as we walked up the path the lights were on in the hall and in the back, and as Ewan pushed his key into the lock and opened the door a door opened on the next floor, and his father appeared.

`Ah, boys, there you are; cup of tea?' he asked.

`Yes please,' we chorused.

`You'd best bring your bike in, thanks for coming across the common with Ewan, he knows I worry.'

`Dad,' Ewan protested.

The hall was quite large and I propped my bike carefully against the other bikes that leaned up against the wall. I followed the two of them through to the kitchen at the back, where I was handed a mug of tea, and told to help myself to biscuits. After the innocent photographs had duly been admired (and I think Ewan's dad was really pleased with them), he sighed, put his empty mug in the sink and addressed us both; `ah well, back to the grindstone, I've a pile of marking to finish before tomorrow. Ewan'll show you round if you're interested, I'll say good bye before you go, but in the meantime please forgive my rudeness, try not to make too much noise, and Ewan,'

`Yes Dad?'

`Get changed out of your school clothes if you're going to go walloping about, I don't have any time to take you shopping for new clothes until the end of term.'

Ok,' he said meekly, I hate the stupid uniform anyway. Come on, I'll show you my room.' He raced out of the room; I put my mug down on the table and followed him. Ewan's room was right at the top of the house, one of two bedrooms rooms that led off from either side of the attic space. It was separated from the rest of the house by a narrow staircase and lit by big windows set into the slope of the rafters. His was a typical boy's room, untidy and filled with clutter; most of the space was taken up with a pine bed and a round table with lots of work books on it. By the time I caught up with him he had already pulled off most of his school clothes, and the sight of him standing there, dressed just in a shirt and his white pants was very appealing. He pulled the shirt off over his head and without bothering to put on any other clothes; he flopped down on the bed, head in his hands and frowning slightly.

`What's the problem?' I asked.

How come you've always got such good pants in your pics?' he tugged at the waistband of his y-fronts, all I've got is these, and they're boring.' He tugged again by way of illustration, giving me a little flash.

`Can't you ask your dad to buy you some?'

`God, can you imagine, he hates shopping, just goes into marks and sparks and grabs the same thing every time.'

`You could just ask him to give you some money and buy your own, that's what I've done for the last couple of years.'

`I don't think he trusts me to go shopping on my own, when my brother's back from Uni, he usually makes him go with me, but I missed out this time because I was in the lakes.'

`Well, I'm sure we'll think of something, can't have you deprived of special pants now can we.'

`Actually,' he giggled nervously.

`Yes?'

`Promise you won't tell anyone?'

`Of course, you know I can keep a secret.'

`Well I do have a special pair of pants that I put on for when I'm looking at sexy pictures.'

`Do you, let's see them.'

`Promise you won't laugh?'

`I think I can promise you that,' I said.

Alright then,' he replied, making his mind up, I'll put them on, sit down by the bed and close your eyes, until I say to open them.' At that moment I would have done anything he asked just to see Ewan in his wanking pants, so I sat there with my eyes firmly closed listening to the faint sounds of him retrieving his booty from its hideaway. After that, a silence, and then, finally; `Ok, you can open your eyes now.'

Ewan was standing in front of me, wearing a pair of blue and white horizontally striped girls pants, his manhood, although not erect, was straining the slender elastic away from his body and I could clearly see that he did, after all, have pubic hair, and it was the same pale golden colour as his hair. Wow, those are sexy,' I said, suddenly dry mouthed, give us a twirl.' He grinned and obligingly spun round, his cute bottom looking ever so appealing in the low-slung panties, and his package looking even tastier in profile, if that were possible. `Just one question, why the blue and white?'

He wiggled deliciously, and sat down on the edge of the bed in front of me, `I'm a QPR supporter (for the benefit of overseas readers Queens Park Rangers are a not very successful English football team and their colours are blue and white), what do you think of them?'

`I think you're having me on, you'd be far too depressed ever to have a wank if you were a QPR supporter.'

He giggled and stretched out on the bed, running his fingers over the skin of his belly, `Yeah, you're right, I pinched them from my brother's ex-girlfriend, I found them under his bed. I just like the feeling, like I'm almost, but not quite naked.' His manhood was visibly thickening, and whilst I was fascinated and turned on, I wasn't sure that I was ready for this yet. It was a great to have found someone else who was into pants though, and much to be encouraged, I would be happy to help him to indulge his tastes.

`Umm, do you think you could let me have some paper,' I asked, attempting to divert his attention back onto our purpose.

In a minute,' he replied, I want to show you something first.'

`I really think I ought to write the note to your Mr Symonds,' I said, hoarsely, it was getting difficult to concentrate.

Ewan propped himself up on his elbows, and looked me straight in the eye; `You remember when I caught you and Paul at it?'

`Of course, how could I forget?'

`Well, you just winked at me, and carried on, in fact, you made me feel included by putting on a bit of a show.'

`Well, it would have been churlish not to, although I think Paul might have reacted badly if he'd realised he had an audience, but anyway what are you leading up to?'

`I think watching you both come was the sexiest thing I've ever had happen, and I wanted to return the compliment, show you something sexy.'

`So you have, I'll treasure the image of you in your QPR knickers. It's really sweet of you, but there's no need to do any more, we were having a great time.'

I could see that,' he grinned, but you made me a part of it, when you didn't need to, and I want to give you something in return.'

`What did you have in mind?' I asked, dry-mouthed again.

`I want you to see what a turn-on you were to me, and I want you to watch me come.'

`Are you sure about this?' I asked, suddenly worried that in his relief at being freed from the abusive Mr Symonds, he was over compensating. Later I was to realise that this was typical of Ewan, he had an instinctive generosity, and liked to repay what he considered to be debts at the earliest opportunity.

I've been fantasising about doing this ever since we got back from the lakes,' he replied, now shut up and watch the effect you had on me.' He motioned for me to move my chair into a better position, and once I had done so, he settled back, closed his eyes and laid still, hands lightly brushing his chest and skinny ribs. For a few moments, nothing seemed to be happening; his chest gently rose and fell, and whilst I was able to closely inspect his bulge in its skimpy cotton containment, there was little action there. After what seemed to be an age but was probably only seconds, there was a stirring in his pants; I could clearly see the blood pumping into his cock as he began to get erect. He still hadn't touched himself in any way, but his cock continued to grow, stretching and distorting the flimsy material. It was becoming plain that something was going to have to give, there was altogether too much dick for a rather small pair of girls panties, and finally the elastic rolled under and his cock sprang free from its confinement and stood firm and proud, jutting out of the panties. Ewan's cock was longer than mine, uncut as well, but slimmer, and very straight, unlike Paul's which has a distinct curve in it. I was admiring his admirable tool, when he finally opened his eyes and smiling up at me, he reached lazily down and took hold of it.

I have to admit that I was finding this an enormously horny experience; obviously I had watched Paul wanking many times, but only through the objective eye of a camera lens. This time, Ewan wanted me to watch closely, and I was happy to indulge him. `What are you thinking?' he asked softly, as he slowly ran his hand up and down his shaft.

`A bit of me is wishing that I had my camera, and another bit is wishing that this could go on for ever.'

I can see that another bit is trying to climb out of your trousers,' he said wickedly, if you wanted to let it out I don't mind.'

`I won't, thanks, much as I'd like to, I want to keep this picture in my mind.' I was only partly telling the truth, I was busting to have a wank, but I still felt that things were moving too quickly, and I wanted to slow it down a little.

Ewan smiled enigmatically, and gazing at me with his hazel eyes, he continued his steady rhythmical masturbating. His hands were small and neat, with carefully trimmed nails, unlike mine which are large and square with chewed off nails, and these made his cock look even larger. As if he had been reading my mind, he took hold of it in both hands, and even when he was grasping it firmly in both fists, there was still a substantial length of his penis projecting out of the end.

I could see that he was getting well lubed up, drops of pre-cum welling up and dampening his shaft. His cock was also beginning to redden, as his careful handling was sending him towards the point of no return. I had to give myself a bit of a rub through my school trousers; my cock was aching, and I could feel my pants getting damp. I could see that Ewan had clocked this, and it spurred him on, he let go of his cock with one hand, and used it to stroke his balls through the material of the panties, with the other, he began to stroke more vigorously up and down. It wasn't going to be long now, his cheeks were red and flushed and his lips looked even redder than normal, if that were possible. A fine sweat broke out on his forehead, as he ceased caressing his balls and holding that hand flat above the tip of his now purple penis, he grunted ; `Here it comes.'

Here it came indeed, from my close vantage point, I could not only see the violent spurts of come as they erupted from his cock and splashed off his carefully positioned hand, but I could hear the sound each gobbet made as it squirted free and landed wetly onto his ribcage. The torrent of spunk pooled on his gently heaving stomach as his cock began slowly to subside, Ewan settled back, momentarily exhausted.

Wow,' I said, that's something I won't forget in a hurry.'

Good,' Ewan replied, I've given you something back then.'

`You certainly have, now there's a little ritual that Paul and I have when we've both come, may I?' I indicated the pool of spunk on his belly.

Ewan raised an eyebrow, and said; `be my guest.'

I leaned forwards and stirred the creamy mess with my forefinger, and gathering a dollop up, I anointed Ewan's forehead and then mine, before I licked off the last delicious drops. I call us "come brothers",' I said, a bit like blood brothers, but messier and much more fun.'

That's cool; I like it,' Ewan giggled, but how about this for us?' He scooped up a handful of his jizz and raised it to his lips, slurped some noisily, then offered it to me. I took his hand, and carefully sucked the spunk from his palm, before gently licking the fragrant remainder from his fingers. I collected a few more drops from his sweaty stomach and offered my hand to him; he gravely and thoroughly licked my fingers clean. `I think we could be "come lovers",' he announced.

That's good,' I said, that can be our little secret. Now, I really think I need to get the note for Mr Symonds written, and then I have to get home.'

Ewan frowned at me, `you really are hard to please, I thought you'd be happy.'

I am,' I protested, it's just that things are moving a bit quickly for me, I don't want you to do anything you might regret later.'

I won't,' he said firmly, I've been fantasising about showing off to you ever since I clocked you and Paul in the bogs at the outdoor centre.'

Eh?' I said, startled, what do you mean?'

`I saw you both come in for a piss, and I could tell that you had something going on together, you were completely at ease with each other's bodies.'

`God, are we that obvious?'

Not unless you are looking out for it,' he giggled, didn't you wonder how come I kept popping up wherever you were?'

`Not really, although we both appreciated in our own ways your habit of running about in your pants, but anyway, before we do anything else, we have to get rid of your little difficulty.'

Slave driver!' he pouted prettily, chuck me some tissues then and I'll clean up the last of my spunk before I set.'

I handed him a handful of paper tissues, and helped wipe the last remnants of his come off his stomach and chest. He wiped his slippery and still slightly engorged cock clean and tucked it back into his panties before jumping up off the bed and finding me an A4 pad of paper to write on. I turned my chair to the table, and uncapping my fountain pen, started to write the note which was to accompany the photograph. I had been giving a lot of thought to the text over the weekend and had come up with the following:

Mr Symonds, You will realise from the enclosed photograph that you have been found out, and not only that, but your secret is no longer held just between you and your unfortunate victim. In order to prevent me from passing a copy of this picture to the police, and I hope you appreciate that even the most dull-minded plod will be able to read your telephone number and work out your identity, you only have to do one thing. Loathe though I am to let you off so lightly, your victim is of a more kindly disposition, and simply wishes you to refuse to teach him any more, and to renounce all forms of social contact with him and his family as soon as possible. Needless to say, if you don't accede to these very reasonable demands, then you will be publicly exposed as the dangerous abuser that you are and will have to deal with the consequences. If the family of this boy haven't heard from you within 24 hours of your receiving this letter, then we will assume that you wish to take the exposure option, and copies of the photo will be sent to the local police and to the local newspaper. Yours sincerely, No friend of yours.

As I was writing the letter, I was conscious that Ewan was standing close behind me and reading over my shoulder. In fact he was getting closer and closer, and I could feel the warmth of his partially clad body pressed deliciously against mine. Finally, when I had finished, I turned round to look at him; `what do you think?'

He paused for a moment, I could see the gleam of unshed teardrops in his eyes; `I think that ought to do it, he's bound to realise I can't write like that or spell most of the words either.'

`Yup, those are my thoughts too, if you get me an envelope and a big elastic band, then I'll go and deliver it on my way home, if you tell me his address of course.'

Ewan padded barefoot across the room and grabbed an envelope from a pile of them on his bookcase; `what did you want the rubber band for? and will one of these do?'

`Best not to ask, but that looks fine, give me a couple will you.'

Ewan came back across the room, and handed me my requests, as I put the letter and the incriminating photograph in it, crossed out his father's name and wrote: FAO; Mr Symonds, in its place. Suddenly he threw his arms round me and hugged me; `thanks for doing this for me.' he said, a catch in his voice.

I wrapped my arms round his naked torso, and hugged him back, conscious of, and enjoying the feel of his body pressing up against mine. My cock, which had subsided a little during the letter writing session stiffened up again, as his scantily clad groin pushed against it. We stood together, for a long moment, and then he raised the stakes again by tilting his head back and kissing me full on the lips. Taken briefly by surprise, I resisted for a moment, then realised that I actually wanted to kiss him and relaxed. Any awkwardness I felt ebbed away, and when I felt his tongue probing gently between my lips I willingly allowed him to carry on. Discreetly, I allowed my hand to slide down his back and eventually to stroke the sweet curves of his cotton clad bottom. Although I'd hugged him before, this really was the first time I had touched him in a sexual way, as I stroked him, I felt his body relax and snuggle closer to me. I realised that, in spite of my resistance, he really did want me to be with him in some way, and he had been rather baffled by my continuing refusal to engage with him.

As I gently caressed his beautiful rounded bottom, I became aware that he was stiffening up again and was pressing his growing erection against my aching cock. I wasn't really thinking anymore, just reacting, and I felt slightly relieved, as well as irritated when Ewan's dad yelled up the stairs from the landing below; `Do you boys want some supper? If you do, you'd better come and give me a hand.'

Ewan disengaged from kissing me, and yelled back; Yes please, we'll be down in a minute,' He turned to me and said softly; sorry, we'd better stop, or he might come up.'

That's ok,' I said, I'd better make a move though, I've got my big suffragette moment to do, and my mother will be wonder where I've got to.'

`Oh god, I've upset you,' he said, looking stricken.

No, no,' I said vehemently, come here for a minute, and I'll prove it.' For the first time, I pulled his near naked body to me and kissed him, pressing my lips fiercely against his and forcing my tongue into his willing mouth. We stood locked together for a couple of moments, then I let him go, not without regret.

Thank you,' he said, I needed to know that, but I really had better get dressed.'

I watched as he walked across the room to a pile of clothes, he pulled off his panties tossing them impatiently onto the floor by his bed, freeing his semi-erect cock for a moment, before he picked up his white y-fronts and put them on again. He turned to me, looking puzzled and holding his jeans in his hand; `what's a suffragette?' he asked, as he pulled them up over his well filled pants.

Ask your dad,' I said, actually, no, probably better not, he might add two and two together. Look it up in an encyclopaedia, I'll spell it for you.'

Ok,' he said, I guess you're not going to tell me.'

No, I'm not,' I said with a grin, and when you've looked it up you'll understand why.' After Ewan had put on a t shirt, we clattered down to the kitchen where Ewan's dad was already stirring something in a pan; `I'm afraid I am going to have to go, I didn't say I was staying out tonight, and I still have homework to do for tomorrow.'

Oh, that's a pity,' he said, thanks for looking after Ewan, he doesn't spend enough time with boys of around his own age, hopefully he'll be seeing more of you.'

You can be sure of that,' I replied cheerfully, but for now I must get home.'

Ewan followed me into the hall, and helped me disentangle my bike; `Will I?' he asked directly.

`Will you what?' I answered, although I knew what he was asking.

`See more of you.'

`You've already seen it all,' I said, teasing him.

`I want to do it all again,' he replied.

`So you will,' I promised, and gave him a swift and slightly risky kiss as I wheeled my bike out of the door. As I pedalled off into the gathering dusk, I looked back and he was stood looking small and slightly lost on the doorstep. I grinned and waved and he smiled and waved back.

Mr Symonds lived about a five minute bike ride away, down a tree-lined and dimly lit crescent; his house was slightly smaller than Ewan's dads house, and of a slightly later period. The front room was set back about ten feet from the road and dominated by a large bay window, in the failing light of the early evening he hadn't yet drawn the curtains, and in the room I could see, and recognise, the wall to ceiling bookcases that featured in his photography. I cycled past, checking out my get away, and stopped around the corner. I removed my school blazer and strapped it securely onto my bike, as luck would have it, there was a builder's skip on the road, and it was the work of a moment to select a suitable half-brick. I folded the envelope with the letter and incriminating photograph in, and used the elastic bands to secure it firmly to the half-brick.

I took a deep breath and grasping the missile in one hand, I raced round the corner and up to the abusers house, in the relative silence of a suburban evening, I stopped abruptly in his driveway, paused for a moment to take aim and hurled the brick straight through the centre of the bay window. As the crash of breaking glass echoed round the crescent, I pedalled as fast as I could round the corner and away. I'm sure I was seen, as a loud noise like that would be bound to attract attention, but a furiously pedalling boy on a bike was pretty anonymous, and I had planned a route home that would take me down back alleys that would pretty much guarantee my escape. As soon as I judged it to be safe, I stopped and put my blazer back on and cycled sedately home.

I arrived home without incident, and carried on as though nothing had happened. I wasn't expecting to hear anything until the next day, after all, Mr Symonds had been given 24 hours to toe the line, and was probably having fun and games with glaziers. I had plenty to think about, mostly though, I was feeling a curious warm glow; I was beginning to realise that I was loved and needed and I was coming round to the view that I loved Ewan, at any rate the painful lump in my gut whenever I thought about him must surely have been love.

As I was a boy, my immediate response was to go and have a wank, my balls were aching with unspilled sperm; Ewan had given me an erotic experience that I was going to remember for a long time and I reran the whole episode in my mind as I pumped away at my cock. When I came, I couldn't help remembering the sound that the spunk made as it sprayed from his hot cock, and compared it to the sounds mine made. Not very scientific, but I reckoned that they would sound ok together, and it seemed very likely that I was going to get a chance to find out. Once I had cleaned myself up, I had my homework to do, and this occupied my mind fully right up to the point where I had to go to bed.

I slept well that night, although I dreamed about Ewan and woke in the morning with a raging hard on. I didn't get a chance to do anything about it, as I was lying in my bed I heard the phone ring, and my mother shout up the stairs; `it's your little friend again.'

Once again I pulled on some clothes and clattered down the stairs; `hello?' I said.

Hi,' Ewan's voice sounded excited, it's worked, he phoned my dad late last night, they had a huge row, and Dad just told me that I wouldn't be going to him any more. Thank you so much for what you've done.'

`That's fantastic, how do you feel?'

`I feel great, like a big weight has been lifted off me. My dad is furious, it's a really busy time for him, and I don't think he's got the time to look for another tutor for me.'

`That's good isn't it, lets you off the hook for a while.'

`Yeah, but I really need to keep up with my reading exercises, or I'll get behind at school.'

I'm sure something will come up,' I said, I'm sorry mate, but I'm going to have to go, I'm not dressed for school yet. We can talk about this in school; and I'll ask my mother if she has any ideas.'

`That would be great, thanks again, see you later.'

I hung up the phone, and went slowly back up the stairs to get ready for school, I had a lot to think about, and a lot to look forward to as well.

To be continued...